Le Point de non Retour
by writerchic97
Summary: "Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair..." These words begin a turmoil of painful choice for young soprano Christine Daae. Losing Raoul would leave a shadow on her heart...but losing the Phantom would leave a hole.


Hi, people.

I'm taking a break from my usual DQIX fanfics to bring something I've been dreaming out for a while: an alternate ending to The Phantom of the Opera. There's not really a happy way to end this story, but I decided to experiment a little; and besides, I can't help liking the Phantom! At least, not when he's being played by Gererd Butler ^_^

So anyway, I really hope all the ErikXChristine fans out there enjoy this. Honestly, I hope you enjoy it even if you aren't an ErikXChristine!

...Hmm. I don't know what to say here; I don't think I can use a DragonQuest thing in a Phantom fanfic. Let's think... Ooh, got it!

I remain, ladies and gentlemen, your obedient servant.

_O.G._

_(Writerchic97)_

* * *

_"Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair!_

_"Down we plunge to the prison of my mind!_

_"Down that path into darkness deep as hell!"_

Christine tried to pull away, but anger made the Phantom stronger. She couldn't break his grip on her wrist. The Phantom pulled her around to face him and slowed his descent.

_"Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place?"_ he half-spat, half-sang. _"Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"_

And he continued pulling her down the damp stairs to his lair. Faintly, Christine thought she heard the noise of a group of people. _"Track down this murderer, he must be found! Track down this murderer, he must be found!"_

Down here, they were safe from the fire that by this point was bound to be raging in the operahouse above. But Christine was still terrified. It wasn't the burn-like distortion of the Phantom's face that frightened her; it wasn't the threat of fire. It was the sudden madness that seemed to have gripped the man pulling her down the stairs - the beautiful, broken, scarred man whom she had learnt to love in the years since she had come to the Opera Populaire. She was frightened for herself...and also for _him_.

Inside the lair, he began singing again, half to himself. _"Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere... _

_"No kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere... _

"Christine..." He looked down at her, and Christine saw the tears in his eyes. "Why?" The whisper was quiet, broken-sounding. And then again, more violently: "Why!?"

* * *

_"Your hand at the level of your eyes..."_

_"At the level of your eyes..."_ repeated Raoul, and he heard the echoes of Madame Giry's and his voices echoing down the long set of stairs.

Madame Giry looked around nervously. "This is as far as I dare go," she told him.

Raoul understood why. "Thank you," he said, and started down the stairs. As he went, he shed first his fancy jacket, and then his overshirt. Whatever was going to happen in the depths of the operahouse, he wanted to be prepared - and that meant not being weighted down with extra layers.

He paused and glanced over the railing. It was a long, long way down...

Sighing, he put his hand up to the level of his eyes and kept going down. Then, suddenly, the floor dropped out from beneath him.

He was too slow to grab the ledge to catch himself and a second later, he found himself falling through water. A muted - but still ominous - clinking noise reached his ears. He swam to the surface and realised that there was a grate descending towards him. Panicked, he looked round. About ten feet beneath the surface was a wheel. It was a long shot, but it was also his only one. Taking a deep gulp of air, he dove for the wheel.

It refused to turn.

He tried desperately for a moment longer, and then glanced back up at the surface. There was enough time for one final breath. Knowing full well that it would most likely be his last, he swam back up, gasped for air in the scant inches between the surface of the grate, and returned to the wheel. Now either he turned it or he died without rescuing Christine from the clutches of the Phantom.

It was a strenuous endeavour, but in the end the wheel began to turn. He pushed even harder, and suddenly the chain caught and he knew the grate was rising. He pushed for the surface and came up to deep, laboured breaths of air.

But he couldn't stop to enjoy the fact that he was somehow alive. He had to keep going. Christine was down there somewhere, trapped in the Phantom's lair. Raoul hauled himself out of the water and continued down.

* * *

Christine hated the dress.

It was beautiful, she would give it that much. It fit her perfectly. And under any other circumstances, she would have loved it. But not there. Not then.

She stalked out to the front part of the lair, where the Phantom was sitting on the bench, facing his grand organ. _"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?"_ she snapped, and he turned. _"Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"_

The Phantom rose, not seeming too put off by her outburst. He smiled grimly as he sang, _"That fate which condemns me _

_"To wallow in blood,_

_"Has also denied me_

_"The joys of the flesh."_

Here, he tried to touch her face, but she looked away petulantly.

_"This face the infection_

_"Which poisons our love."_

She looked back, eyes going wide, at the last word. But the Phantom had already turned away. His voice sounded shaky. _"This face, which earned_

_"A mother's fear and loathing;_

_"A_ _mask my first_

_"Unfeeling scrap of clothing..._

_"Pity comes too late!" _Roughly, he pushed something on top of her head - a veil, she assumed. And he wrenched her around to look at him as he continued, _"Turn around and face your fate!_

_"An eternity of this -"_ he gestured harshly to the right side of his face - _"before your eyes..."_

Christine looked up at him for a long moment in utter silence as he pressed the ring he had taken from her on the night of the masquerade ball into her palm. Then she turned away, taking the veil off her head and letting it fall to the ground. She crossed to one of the mirrors and removed the cover as she told him, _"This haunted face holds no horror for me now."_

That was one of the truths she needed to tell him. And then the other...

_"It's in your soul where the true distortion lies..."_

The expression on the Phantom's face told her that he knew it to be true as well. He looked away sadly, but Christine didn't. There was a beauty in his face, distorted as it was; a perfect asymmetry that somehow made the disfigured features more beautiful than any statue.

Then suddenly, he straightened and turned to look at her, a sudden smile upon his face. "Wait. I think my dear, _we have a guest!"_

Christine looked over, and her eyes went wide.

"Sir -"

"Raoul!"

"This is indeed an unparalleled delight!"

Christine looked at Raoul desperately, pleading. _Go!_ she thought. _Get away, before he kills you too!_

The Phantom didn't notice her discomfort. "I had rather hoped that you would come!" he said. "And now - my wish comes true! You have truly made my night." He put an arm around Christine's shoulders, and she tried to pull away. "Let me go," she hissed.

_"Free her! _Raoul sang desperately. _"Do what you like only free her! Have you no pity?"_

_"Your lover makes a passionate plea,"_ the Phantom said with a mocking grin as Christine escaped his arm.

_"Please, Raoul, it's useless!"_

_"I love her!"_ cried Raoul. _"Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion -"_

"The world showed no compassion to me!" roared the Phantom, whirling to face him.

_"Christine, Christine... Let me see her -"_

_"Be my guest, sir,"_ the Phantom replied, raising a hand in acknowledgement and pulling the lever to raise the gate. Christine's eyes went wide. Impossible. The Phantom hated Raoul...

But there he was, approaching the entering Raoul. Part of Christine's mind noted that the gate was going down again, but she was too focused on the scene before her to really notice. What was going on?

The Phantom spread his arms in greeting. _"_Monsieur_, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her?_

_"Why would I make her pay _

_"For the sins which are yours!"_

And with that, he scooped up a rope and threw it round Raoul's neck. Christine gasped in horror and started for them, but stumbled over the hem of her dress.

_"Order your fine horses now!" _mocked the Phantom. "Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now - except perhaps _Christine!"_

He turned from Raoul, who was now tightly bound to the gate. Sloshing through the water, he shouted, _"Start a new life with me!_

_"Buy his freedom with your love! _

_"Refuse me and you send your lover to his death. _

_"This is the choice - _

_"This is the point of no return!"_

Christine was horrified. Breathing hard, shaking her head softly, she sang, _"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate _

_"Grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!"_

The Phantom shook his head in disgust and started for land. Christine began to cry as she heard Raoul's voice.

_"Christine, forgive me, please forgive me..._

_"I did it all for you and all for nothing!"_

_"Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend," _Christine sang angrily as the Phantom passed her, another length of rope in his hands. _"We had such hopes and now those hopes are shattered!"_

_"Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity,"_ spat the Phantom as he started back towards Raoul.

Raoul paid no attention to the Phantom. _"Say you love him and my life is over!" _he sang.

_"All hope in cries for help_

_"No point in fighting -"_

And then the noose was around Raoul's neck, and a hard enough tug from the Phantom would mean his end.

_"For either way you choose, you cannot -"_

_"Either way you choose, he has to -_

_"Win,"_ they both sang. And then the Phantom continued.

_"So do you end your days with me_

_"Or do you send him to his grave!?" _He yanked on the rope.

Christine's hand went to her throat as Raoul's head was pulled. Defiantly, Raoul growled, _"Why make her lie to you to save me?"_

Desperately, Christine tried to speak reason to the Phantom. _"Angel of music..."_

_"Past the point of no return -"_

_"For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"_

_"Who deserves this!?"_

_"The final threshold -"_

_"Don't throw your life away for my sake..."_

_"His life is now the prize which you must earn!"_

_"Why do you curse mercy...?"_

Quietly, Raoul sang, _"I fought so hard to free you..."_

Christine choked back her tears. _"Angel of music..."_

_"You've passed the point of no return..."_

_"You deceived me..."_ she sang quietly. She was trembling from anger and tears. "I gave you my mind blindly," she whispered.

The Phantom smiled grimly. "You try my patience," he told her. "Make your choice." He pulled on the rope, and Raoul spluttered weakly.

Christine looked at the Phantom, and then at Raoul. As soon as she met his eyes, Raoul knew what she was going to do. _I love you,_ she mouthed, and smiled weakly.

_A lot of good it did us,_ Raoul thought bitterly. _Oh, Christine..._

Christine looked at the Phantom, true caring in her eyes. _"Pitiful creature of darkness..._

_"What kind of life have you known?_

_"God give me courage to show you _

_"You are not alone!"_

With that, she slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and reached up to kiss the Phantom full on the lips.

For a second, he was still from surprise. Then he relaxed against her, and he was kissing her back.

When they broke apart, Christine looked at the Phantom for a moment. Then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him in again.

This time, it was the Phantom who broke the kiss. Faintly, Christine could hear the sounds of the group of people - a mob, she realised suddenly, and with horror.

The Phantom was trembling. _He's never been kissed before,_ Christine realised. _He's never been shown affection...compassion... Love..._

And then, to her shock, he pushed away, saying, "Take her - forget me - forget all of this..."

Christine's eyes went wide, and then she rushed to Raoul and untied the ropes binding him to the gate.

"Leave me alone..." the Phantom said bitterly. "Forget all you've seen..."

Raoul and Christine embraced.

"Go now - don't let them find you!" snapped the Phantom, raising the gate. The voices of the mob were growing louder. _"Take the boat, swear to me never to tell_

_"The secret you know of the angel in hell!"_

_"The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_"Deep down below!"_

The Phantom turned and pointed out violently. _"Go now!"_ he cried. _"Go now and leave me!"_

Christine and Raoul hurried for the boat as the Phantom turned away a final time. But after she helped Raoul on board, Christine stopped and looked back. And she knew what she needed to do.

"Raoul," she whispered.

He looked at her. "Christine... What's wrong?" he asked. "Come on. Quickly, before the mob gets here!"

She shook her head. "I can't," she replied. "I love you, Raoul, I love you so much... But I love him, too. And he needs me." Gently, she reached up and touched his hand. "Please understand, Raoul..."

Raoul looked down at her in shock, and Christine could see a tear in his eye. "But... No, Christine, you can't..."

"I have to," Christine replied, shaking her head. "Goodbye, Raoul."

"Christine!"

She was already walking away, but she paused and turned back. "What is it?"

He fumbled for words in that endearing, straightforward way he had always had, even years before, in the days at the house by the sea. "Good luck," he said finally. "I love you, Christine."

"I love you too," she whispered, and walked away. And as she passed the lever, she pushed it to shut the gate.

* * *

_"Masquerade_

_"Paper faces on parade..._

_"Masquerade..._

_"Hide your face; the world will never find you..."_

The little papier-mâché music box played the melody, and the Phantom sang. _What a lie,_ he thought. _What a beautiful lie it is. The world will _always_ find you..._

Then, from behind him, he heard a small sound. He turned, and his heart rose as he saw Christine standing there. _"Christine, I love you..."_ he sang.

Christine approached slowly. There was still time. If she wanted to - if she truly wanted to - she could return to Raoul. She could tell the Phantom goodbye and live out a happy, simple, peaceful life as the Vicomtess de Chagny.

But when she looked into the Phantom's eyes, she knew she couldn't. She loved him too much to ever be truly happy away from him. Leaving Raoul would always leave a shadow in her heart, but leaving the Phantom would have left a hole.

So she knelt down next to his seat. "I love you too," she whispered, and kissed him again.

This kiss was different from the others. It was longer, sweeter, kinder, and yet somehow more passionate than anything before. Gently, she caressed the right side of his face, feeling out every blister and warped fold of skin, and she loved every one of them. "My angel of music," she whispered.

"No," he replied, also in a whisper. Christine looked at him. "My name... My name is Erik."

"Erik," Christine said, trying the name with the face. And she smiled as it clicked. "Erik, my angel."

And he smiled, too. "Come," he said. "They're getting closer."

He was right.

Erik led her around to another mirror. He tugged off the covering and slid it aside - it was a door, like in the dressing room. The main panel was all glass.

Christine started for the tunnel, but Erik paused. Then he picked up his half-mask and his favourite black wig.

He turned to find Christine waiting, placing a hand on top of the mask. "Bring it if you want," she said. "If you want to hide your face... I can understand. But when we're alone, leave it off." She smiled and rubbed the skin around his right eye. "Maybe no one else would understand...but I think it makes you even more beautiful."

Slowly, Erik smiled. "Thank you," he said.

And then, hand in hand, they left the operahouse behind.

* * *

_On the road to a Paris cemetery, 1919_

Raoul and Meg sat together in the back seat of the automobile, hands touching lightly. Between them was the little papier-mâché music box that they had bought at the auction earlier that day. It had been two years since news of Christine's death had reached them, but it had taken that whole time for Raoul to be ready to visit Paris again.

After the affair of the Phantom, he had returned to Chagny. Several years later, he had met Meg again, and something had worked. It wasn't the same love that he had shared with Christine, but it was love all the same. The two of them had gotten married. There were several children - Christine, Marc, and Nathalie - all grown by then. It had, after all, been forty-nine years since Christine had gone back for the Phantom that disastrous night at the operahouse.

Neither Raoul nor Meg had ever heard anything from Christine, but not long after Raoul's return to Chagny, the papers began to talk of a new operahouse in London, owned by a French couple. One was a beautiful young soprano who would have found her way into the productions even without the added benefit of owning the operahouse; the other was a more reserved, dark-haired, handsome man who was never seen in public without a white half-mask. Their names, according to the paper, were Erik and Christine Fantôme.

The two had operated the operahouse until five years previous, when they had retired and passed it on to their eldest son, Raoul.

Finally, the automobile reached the cemetery. Raoul and Meg got out and turned towards Christine's grave. It was a simple thing - a rounded block of stone. It read,

_Christine Fantôme _

_1854-1917_

_Beloved of many_

_Caring wife, mother, and friend._

Raoul read the inscription and felt his throat grow tight. Meg put a hand on his arm. "I miss her, too," she said quietly. "Here...let's give her the box."

She and Raoul bent down and together, they placed the music box on the ground before the grave. Then something next to it caught Raoul's eye. "Meg," he said quietly. "Look."

Lying next to the grave was a single red rose, with a black ribbon tied around the stem. And scattered around, as if they had been blown by the wind, were many others, some long dead, some only a few days old.

Raoul looked around, as did Meg. Finally, he saw a cloaked figure walking some distance away. It looked like he had come from the grave.

Almost as if it had realised that they were looking at it, the figure paused. Then it turned. His hair was still dark - he still wore his black wig. The left side of the face was creased with lines, and the figure was frailer than that of the man who had threatened him to win Christine all those years ago. But the mask left Raoul in no doubt of who he was looking at.

Erik nodded slowly.

Just as slowly, Raoul reached up to touch the brim of his hat. Meg gave a small curtsy.

And the Phantom of the Opera turned away, disappearing into the graves.

* * *

_Child of the wilderness,_

_Born into emptiness,_

_Learn to be lonely._

_Learn to find your way in darkness._

_Who will be there for you?_

_Comfort and care for you?_

_Learn to be lonely._

_Learn to be your one companion... _

_Never dreamed out in the world_

_There are arms to hold you._

_You've always known_

_Your heart was on its own._

_So laugh in your loneliness,_

_Child of the wilderness._

_Learn to be lonely..._

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone._

_Learn to be lonely._

_Life can be lived..._

_Life can be loved..._

_Alone._


End file.
